It didn't take us long to get to the northern part of Cadorelin, buy horses, and then take off towards home. Of all the places, Fernweh should've been my first guess. Every sign had been pointing straight there and I should know my sister well enough to know that she'd never leave home. She's the predictable type once you get to know and understand her, and yet here we are, seven cycles later, just now realizing that there's still more for her to pull out of her pocket.
The wolf is still with us, running in between me and Darius while we're on horseback. Darius asked for his name after it changed back into his animal form. Turns out my sister still has a nick for coming up with fun names for people, or...water wolves.
Víđarr.
Forest Warrior.
If you ask me, it's rather plain for her sort but I'm not going to be the one to tell her that. Then again, it's not necessarily pronounced the way it's spelled. Víđarr. Vee-jarr. If it's got a plain meaning, then it has complicated spelling.
He led us through Wildflower Valley, somehow finding a trail through it, though flowers bloomed wherever he stepped. It wasn't until we were halfway through the fields and I looked back that I realized he was covering our trail. There's no way in heathens anyone could possibly see our tracks when the soil is upturned by quickly sprouting Blanket Flowers, Lace Wildflower, Cardinal Flowers, and dozens more. After we came through the last of them and sprinted onto the open land, grass and untouched mud rose to do the same and hide the marks we left.
Nimue Lake marks our halfway point, and I never thought that I'd be so relieved to see it after a full day of riding. We have to switch out our second group of horses in Litchelle and plan to be on our way before our muscles can stiffen to the point of making it a challenge to get our feet in the stirrups.
It's been years since I've been on horseback. I always preferred the on-foot journey compared to the sorness of riding, but right now I'll take speed and stiffness over burning lungs and too much land to cover on my own two feet.
I can already feel my muscles and back tightening up, which is why I'm bouncing on my toes while we wait for the stable hands to saddle and bridle up fourteen horses. They all nearly pissed themselves when they saw Víđarr, but the horses didn't do more than glance at him. I'm curious as to how he does that – keeping everyone but people at ease. I'll admit, I've gotten used to his presence, but every now and then it'll scare me to see his head pop over my shoulder. It's like one of his practical jokes. He just sneaks up behind people and scares them.
What's even more alarming is the fact that he's currently playing with a few children, letting them climb on his back or run their fingers through his body like a pool, their hands coming away dry and their wide smiles marveling at the magic of it all. He even created three water pups from his own body to chase them around.
He reminds me so much of Fauna in the way that he acts with children. Friendly, kind, gentle, and stern when needed. One of them falls into a pile of mud while trying to keep away from one of the pups, and he just walks over, washes him up, and then leaves him dry and good as new.
"Seeing is easier than believing," Darius comments as he walks up next to me.
He's been rather calm about this whole thing, though I do still feel his power pulse every now and then. My nose will bleed if it gets too strong, but it hasn't happened yet so he must only be letting out the smallest of dampers that he can spare. If we're going to get her back, I have a feeling that we'll need everything he's got along with every ounce of strength the rest of us have. We lost her once, we're not losing her again.
"What do you know about him?" I ask.
"Víđarr? Not much more than you. Only that this-" he holds out his hand, a small flame dancing on his pointer finger "-seems to be drawn to it."
"That's fire. He's made of water."
"You try telling it that."
"And you don't know why it so badly wants to die?"
He shakes his head, still not scolding me for my rather bland and somewhat snarky questioning of his common sense. "Not a clue – though I have a feeling it has something to do with your sister."
"What doesn't have to do with my sister," I sigh.
"A question the world may never find the answer to." The corner of his lip twitches, but it doesn't move more than that. He's been even more off since Cadorelin. More distant - more detached. It worries me.
I huff a fake laugh for both of our sakes, not finding an answer that would prove his statement wrong. My sister does love being in the spotlight, even when she's hiding in the shadows.
"Hey, pretty boys! Time to go!"
I roll my eyes, all too fed up with Alex's anxious behavior. He's like a buzzing fly swirling around your head that you can just never seem to slap away.
We turn from the mother hen of a wolf and giggling children and walk to where everyone's in their saddle and ready to leave. Ozzie looks as stiff as I feel, walking with a scowl and pin straight legs he limps on slightly.
"You got any food on you?" Darius asks, mounting a white and black spotted mare that chews on the bit, practically echoing his question.
"Out of everyone here, you really think I would be the one to have food on me?" I climb up onto my own buckskin horse and look at Darius to find him raising an eyebrow at me. You know, I'm thankful for his newfound gifts, I just wish he would stop feeling people out with the air element. It's weird - and creepy.
"Don't choke," I snide sarcastically, taking the apple from my pocket and tossing it to him.
"I want one," Henry whines.
"I don't have another one."
Darius looks at me with knowing eyes before nudging his horse into a trot. I eye the back of his head, wondering if one of the elements would be able to stop the knife I launch at it. So what if I have five apples total that I may or may not have stolen from the basket that's lying by the stable doors – apples, I might add, that I paid for in four bronze coins per apple. Triple the fruit's cost. I paid for it, therefore I should be more than privileged to eat them.
While I have my pout, everyone grabs their reins to follow after the traitor of a man my sister somehow fell in love with. I pull my horse towards Henry, making sure everyone else is looking the other way before handing him one of my apples. He beams like a child receiving candy and then temporarily holds it in his mouth before letting his horse run free.
I hope he chokes. He stole my apple.
Víđarr comes up beside me and, thankfully, I saw him coming beforehand. I have no doubt that he would've scared me yet again had I not made sure he was coming along. My horse didn't see it coming, and yet he doesn't do more than pull at the reins, begging me to allow him to run.
"Are they not coming?" I ask Víđarr, looking back to the four pups and four children, still playing happily.
He doesn't answer, just looks at me flatly as if I'm the stupidest person in the world. "Right. Protection."
With that, I kick my horse and take off with the others, my sister's promise alongside me.
*****
"Why are we stopping?" I ask, looking around and watching as everyone's horse comes to a stop despite no one pulling back on their reins.
We're somewhere between Nimue Lake and the border of Vandaria and Adaeric, and they just...stopped. No one's around and nothing seems amiss as much as I can tell. Darius looks just as confused, which means that there really is no threat anywhere close enough to cause the horses to freeze. Víđarr doesn't seem to care, however, as he lies on the ground and closes his eyes as if to take a nap.
I look from him back to the non-stirring landscape around us. "It's not long past high noon and you're taking a nap? Now?"
He doesn't open his eyes, but he still forms his thoughts on the ground.
You rest now
We leave before first light
"That's hours away," Henry protests loudly. "Hours we could very well use to ride to Fernweh."
You may go but the horses will not continue until morning
As if hearing his command, the horses each slowly lay down one by one with each of us still on their backs. It's clear enough that they're not moving when Ozzie and the two brothers try kicking theirs into motion and the stallions merely blink, entirely unfazed. In fact, they seem to take more interest in the grass they lay on.
"Heathens burn me alive," Ethan curses, angrily swinging his leg over his horse and stomping off toward the small pond on our left. I hadn't noticed it before, but there's not much around it but a few taller bushes and some large rocks.
Garrison dismounts, glaring at the closed eyed wolf in a way that suggests he wants to set the thing on fire. "This has Clarice written all over it."
I look over to Darius, both of us still not moving. He too stares at Víđarr, his eyes slightly squinting in question rather than fury. He always does that when he's trying to piece things together by using the elements. Something tells me that even if he did encase the wolf in flames or tried compressing it with air, none of his trials to get him moving would work.
Garrison's right. This has my sister written all over it. She told me that I would search for her and train The Bhaltayr while doing so, and though she may not have specified that I couldn't tire them out by making them – technically they're choosing to – ride two days without much punishment, I guess it was a part of it.
I try to get my legs to dismount and start walking north, but they stay still as my chest starts to burn again. The mark on my wrist heats with it, reminding me of the order inked on my skin and warning me of the danger to my life should I refuse. I take a thin deep breath and push the thoughts of continuing on out of my mind.
With the mark no longer searing the pulse in my wrist, I get both my feet back on the ground and feel the burning ease as I walk to where Víđarr still lays. Darius joins the others who are near screaming their argument of whether to continue on foot or stay and listen to the wolf. He just walks right by them and straight into the water, clothes and all. The others don't pay attention to him, but I know well enough why he got in. Steam hissing from the water's surface a few seconds later confirms my thoughts.
Looking back down at my sister's last promise, I find another message.
She needs you strong
not tired weak and as hungry as she is
The mention of her current state has my anger skyrocketing. "I know, but it's not easy for us to rest while she's tired, weak, and hungry. We just want her back – I want her back."
And so you will have her
With energy to spare
I fist my hair and fight the urge to scream up at the sky.
Ever since we left Cadorelin, I've wanted to scream as loud as I could until my voice gave out. For my sister whose body was once a perfect sculpture of strength and honed muscle forged to kill and defend and to do so swiftly. For the lost and empty look in her eyes that struck my heart so harshly that I thought that I had been run through with a sword or shot by an arrow like my father. I had to look down at my chest to double check that I hadn't, but the pain was still there.
The sister I knew is gone. I know that better than anyone and I accept it, unlike the men who have followed me across hills and rivers and mountains and deserts. They refuse to think that she's gone or that there's still her whole self to save, but I know what torture does and I know the shadow it leaves. Much as I want the girl I knew to be the girl I find, Víđarr's water form of her said enough. She's changed, but that doesn't mean I'm giving up on her nor would I not love her.
Looking out at the still bickering children, I try my best to think that they'll be able to cope with what we find. If it took a few months for my father to get used to his own children smiling less and killing easier after we were tortured, I fear how long it'll take them. My father couldn't even look us in the eyes when we'd accidentally get a cut or scrape from training and we wouldn't so much as blink at it.
I remember the cuts that I'd sometimes not even notice I had received until he'd tell me to go get them cleaned and taken care of. But what I remember most is the dark - or rather, the constant battle between fearing or finding comfort in it. Some nights I slept, dead as those in their graves. Others I lit every light in the room and skittered my eyes over every inch and corner of the bedroom, scared that the pain and the loneliness and the haunting memories would come back and drag me out of the dream I had thought I had drifted into unwillingly.
Fauna will be different and that's not what I'm scared of. I'm scared of just how different she'll be. If she'll still be vocal and make remarks and have her usual edge in a gentle sentence, or if she'll end up quieter than the moon.
Looking away from the Bhaltayr, I let my head fall forward and end up finding Víđarr's words shifted and new.
It's time for them to know Lance
They've proven themselves truthful
"Know what?"
Everything
I knew this was coming eventually. I was just hoping that she'd be here to do it and let me avoid the long and rather...uncomfortable conversation.
"You mean everything that I can tell them," I correct.
Everything but her truth
That is for her to tell when she recalls
"Recalls? Recalls what?" He doesn't answer, leaving me to stare up at the sky, again, and pray the Gods don't fuck us over. Again. "You really are like her with your riddles and secrets."
He doesn't answer. Suddenly, a rest seems all that I want at the moment.
With one last longing glance north, I head to the pond and find myself getting nervous. I could be told to walk across a thin wire from one building to the other fifty yards away and I won't blink. But having to tell these men everything about who we are...it's not the first time I've spoken such truth to someone, but it's the first time that I'll have to tell them that this isn't the first time she's felt the sting of death over her shoulder. Surely they know as much, but it's different when you have to tell them things that still make you question your own existence.
"Guys," I say, barely hearing myself over their seagull screeching.
"We could be there before first light!" Ozzie yells.
"The wolf says we stay, and we will," Amel argues.
"Guys."
"Since when do we listen to something that was once a myth?" Mal yells back.
"Since Clare was the one to make that myth a reality."
"Guys!"
"For Saint's sake Arthur, speak up!" I raise an eyebrow at Winston. My nerves instantly vanish to adrenaline rising in preparation for a fight. A temporary relief, I'm sure.
He doesn't back off, doesn't widen his eyes, or apologize for yelling at someone who could have a blade in his heart within the next second. It's weird not to get the reaction, and it's beginning to make me wonder if they truly have gotten used to me. I've seen them fight and bicker with each other, but they always hold their tongue or walk away after having done a similar thing with me.
Maybe Víđarr was right. Maybe they really can be trusted with such things of our past.
For the last few cycles, I've been feeling myself slowly start to change into someone new – someone different. I changed when my mother died, I changed when our father started training us and every lesson had me changing even more. I died and was reborn as something dark, something other after Rose died. I was finally making some headway toward a better side of myself, and then my sister had to pull a one-eighty on me and I...I've lost myself again.
I'm not the same person I was before all of this, and though it's obviously nothing new in my life, it's different somehow. With all the other times before, I had Fauna next to me going through the same. Then neither of us knew how to be around each other when we weren't sure if the other would be able to take the joke or not break out in tears because you let a trigger word slip. We couldn't talk about it until months later because we had to figure out for ourselves what happened and who it now made us.
With the thirteen men before me, it's different. We haven't spoken about how we feel more than needed, but it's not needed. They can read each other like a child's book, and I can read them because I've been trained to look for social cues all my life. I know that they have a hard time reading me, as I've been trained to keep things buried beneath walls and walls of fortified steel all my life. It's different to finally feel like there's someone else – several someones – who understands and knows exactly what's going on. Maybe that's a bad thing - maybe it's good, but for now, it's enough for me to realize that it's been nagging at me to not have them know - to have them understand.
Sure they love her in their own way, but I've known her all her life. I've had her close or at least have known that she's okay and alive when I couldn't be near her. Having her gone is like having her really gone. Like mom and dad and Rose. But wanting to tell them doesn't make it any less hard to get the words out of my mouth.
"What is it?" Vlad asks, his brows knitted in concern. They really have learned how to read me. That or my silence was quite enough to show that something was wrong.
A ten-foot demon couldn't scare me enough to have me stop running at it, and yet I find myself struggling with words. "You all should sit down."
"Please don't tell us that your sister-"
"She's fine, or as fine as she can be," I say, cutting Benny off before he has a very ugly breakdown. His eyes were already starting to glisten. "Just sit down."
They do, slowly. Darius is still sitting in the water but eyes me carefully. I forget that he can feel emotions leaking off of people, so I take a breath and try to coax the tightening of my throat into loosening. People say that they never know where to start explaining in times like this, but there's only one place to start from, and that's the beginning.
I hate the beginning.
"You know our mother is dead." They nod, and I take a steadying breath. "You don't know how she died, but you do know that my sister and I avoid the subject at all costs. It's been years since I've spoken of such things, months since I've thought about them, but you deserve to know. Even if it does end up messing up your mind even more, just know that you're not the ones carrying the weight of it. It's not your burden to bear."
I sit down myself, already feeling my knees beginning to buckle. Odd how your body always knows how to show what it's feeling despite your wishes. Odd how though every inch of me is stiff in attempts not to shake, my mind is clear and unafraid of what is to be said.
"Ten years ago – technically, now eleven – me, my sister, our father, and our mother went to the Dearg Forest for a family vacation. Most people thought we were crazy to go to such a dark place when there was so much more beauty to be seen elsewhere, but the difference between the two was that the Dearg Forest was quiet, and at the time quiet was what we desperately needed, though as children we thought that our parents were taking us there to show us a secret only they knew. Something silly
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